


Beautiful Bastard

by Pcy_biased



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pcy_biased/pseuds/Pcy_biased
Summary: An ambitious intern. A perfectionist executive. And a whole lot of name calling.Whip-smart, hardworking, and on his way to an MBA, Byun Baekhyun  has only one problem: his boss, Park Chanyeol  He's exacting, blunt, inconsiderate—and completely irresistible. A Beautiful Bastard.Chanyeol  has returned to Seoul from America to take a vital role in his family's massive media business. He never expected that the assistant who'd been helping him from abroad was the gorgeous, innocently provocative—completely infuriating—creature he now has to see every day. Despite the rumors, he's never been one for a workplace hookup. But baekhyun's so tempting he's willing to bend the rules—or outright smash them—if it means he can have him. All over the office.As their appetites for one another increase to a breaking point, Chanyeol and baekhyun must decide exactly what they're willing to lose in order to win each other.Rewriting beautiful bastard by Christina Lauren  in the form of chanbaek





	1. Not so well introduction

My father always said the way to learn the job you want is to spend every second watching someone do it.

“To get the job at the top, you’ve got to start at the bottom,” he told me. “Become the person the CEO can’t live without. Be their right-hand man. Learn their world, and they’ll snatch you up the second you finish your degree.”

I had become irreplaceable. And I’d definitely become the Right Hand. It just so happened that in this case, I was the right hand that most days wanted to slap the damn face.

My boss, Mr. Park Chanyeol. Beautiful Bastard.

My stomach clenched tightly at the thought of him: tall, gorgeous, and entirely evil. He was the most self-righteous, pompous prick I’d ever met. I’d hear all of the other women / men in the office gossip about his escapades and wonder if a nice face was all it took. But my father also said, “You realize early in life that beauty is only skin-deep, and ugly goes straight to the bone.” I’d had my fair share of unpleasant men in the past few years, dated a few in high school and college. But this one took the cake.

“Well, hello Mr Byun !” Mr. Park stood in the doorway to my office that served as an anteroom to his. His voice was laced with honey, but it was all wrong . . . like honey left to freeze and crack on ice.

After spilling water on my phone, being rear-ended on the interstate, and having to wait for the cops to come and tell us what we both already knew—that it was the other guy’s fault—the last thing I needed this morning was a grumpy Mr. Park.

Too bad for me he didn’t come in any other flavor.

I gave him my usual. “Good morning, Mr. Park,” hoping he would give me his usual curt nod in return.

But when I tried to slip past him, he murmured, “Indeed? ‘Morning,’ Mr Byun ? What time is it in your little world?”

I stopped and met his cold stare. He was a good eight inches taller than me, and before working for him I’d never felt so small. I’d worked for Park Media Group for six years. But since his return to the family business nine months ago, , I had to tilt my head to look up at him, and he clearly relished it, dark brown eyes flashing , yoda ears and he was the most beautiful person I have ever seen .

“I had a bit of a disaster morning. It won’t happen again,” I said, relieved that my voice came out steady. I had never been late, not once, but leave it to him to make a thing of it the first time it happened. I managed to slip past him, put my bag and coat in my closet, and power up my computer. I tried to act like he wasn’t standing in the doorway, watching every move I made.

“‘Disaster morning’ is quite an apt description for what I’ve had to deal with in your absence. I spoke to Kim Jogande personally to smooth over the fact that he didn’t get the signed contracts when promised: nine a.m., East Coast time. I had to call Lee Taemim personally to let hI'm know we were, in fact, going to proceed with the proposal as written. In other words, I’ve done your job and mine this morning. Surely, even with a ‘disaster morning’ you can manage eight a.m.? Some of us get up and start working before the brunch hour.”

I glanced up at him, antagonizing me, glaring, arms crossed over his broad chest—and all because I was an hour late. I blinked away, very deliberately not staring at the way his dark tailored suit stretched across his shoulders. I had made the mistake of visiting the hotel gym during a convention the first month we worked together and walked in to find him sweaty and shirtless next to the treadmill. He had a face that any male model would kill for and the most incredible hair I’ve ever seen on a man. Freshly f**ked hair. That’s what the girls or boys downstairs called it, and according to them, it earned its title. The image of him wiping his chest with his shirt was forever burned into my brain.

Of course, he’d had to ruin it by opening his mouth: “It’s nice to see you finally taking an interest in your physical fitness, Mr Byun ”

Asshole.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park ” I said with just a hint of bite. “I understand the burden I placed on you by making you manage a fax machine and pick up a telephone. As I mentioned, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re right, it won’t,” he replied, cocky smile firmly in place.

If only he would keep his mouth shut, he’d be perfect. A piece of duct tape would do the trick. I had some in my desk that I’d occasionally pull out and fondle, hoping someday I could put it to good use.

“And just so you don’t allow this incident to slip your memory, I’d like to see the full status tables for the Jogande, Taemim, projects on my desk by five. And then you’re going to make up the hour lost this morning by doing a mock board presentation of the Papadakis account for me in the conference room at six. If you’re going to manage this account, you’re going to prove to me that you know what the hell you’re doing.”


	2. Chapter 2

My eyes widened as I watched him turn away, slamming his office door behind him. He knew damn well that I was ahead of schedule with this project, which also served as my MBA thesis. I still had months to finish my slides once the contracts were signed . . . which they weren’t—they hadn’t even been fully drafted. Now, with everything else on my plate, he wanted me to put together a mock board presentation in . . . I looked at my watch. Great, seven and a half hours, if I skipped lunch. I opened the Papadakis file and got down to it.

As everyone began filtering out for lunch, I remained glued to my desk with my coffee and a bag of trail mix I’d bought from the vending machine. Normally I’d bring leftovers or leave with the other interns to grab something, but time was not on my side today. I heard the outer office door open and looked up, smiling as Luhan walked in. Luhan was in the same MBA internship program at Park Media Group that I was, though he worked in accounting.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

“I’m going to have to skip it. This is the day from hell.” I looked at him apologetically, and his smile turned into a smirk.

“Day from hell, or boss from hell?” he took a seat on the edge of my desk. “I heard he was on a bit of a rampage this morning.”

I gave him a knowing look. Luhan didn’t work for him, but he knew all about Park Chanyeol . As the youngest son of company founder Park Jummyeon and with a notoriously short fuse, he was a living legend in the building. “Even if there were two of me, I wouldn’t be able to get this finished in time.”

“You sure you don’t want me to bring you back something?” His eyes moved in the direction of his office. “A hit man? Some holy water?”

I laughed. “I’m good.”

Luhan smiled and left the office. I’d just finished off the last of my coffee when I bent down, noting a run in my pants “And on top of everything else,” I began, hearing Luhan return, “I’ve already snagged these. Actually, if you’re going somewhere there’s chocolate, bring me back fifty pounds, so I can eat my feelings later.”

I glanced up and saw that it wasn’t Luhan standing there. My cheeks flushed red .

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park , I—”

“Mr Byun , since you and the other office boys have plenty of time to discuss different things , in addition to putting together the Papadakis presentation, I need you to also run down to the Willis office and retrieve the market analysis and segmentation for Beaumont.” He straightened his tie, looking at his reflection in my window. “Do you think you can manage that?”

Did he just call me an “office boy ”? Sure, as part of my internship I often did some basic assistant work for him, but he knew damn well I had worked for this company for years before receiving a JT Miller scholarship to Northwestern. I was four months away from getting my business degree.

Getting my degree and getting the hell out from under you, I thought. I looked up to meet his blazing eyes. “I’ll be happy to ask Minster if he—”

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he cut me off. “I’d like you to pick them up.” He gazed at me for a moment with a clenched jaw before turning on his heel and storming back to his office, pulling the door closed roughly behind him.

What the f**k was his problem? Was slamming doors like a teenager really necessary? I grabbed my blazer from the back of the chair and began making my way to our satellite office a few buildings down.

When I returned, I knocked on his door but there was no response. I tried the knob. Locked. He was probably having a late-afternoon quickie with some trust fund princess while I ran around Seoul like an insane person. I shoved the manila folder through the mail slot, hoping the papers scattered everywhere and he’d have to get down and sort them himself. Would serve him right. I rather liked the image of him on his knees on the floor, gathering scattered documents. Then again, knowing him, he would call me into that sterile hellhole to clean it up while he watched.

Four hours later I had the status updates complete, my slides mostly in order, and I was almost hysterically laughing with how awful this day was. I found myself plotting a very bloody and drawn-out murder of the kid at The Copy Stop. A simple job, that’s all I had asked. Make some copies, bind some things. Should have been a piece of cake. In and out. But no. It had taken two hours.

I raced down the darkened hall of the now-empty building, the presentation materials clutched haphazardly in my arms, and glanced at my watch. Six twenty. Mr. Park was going to have my ass. I was twenty minutes late. As I experienced this morning, he hated late. “Late” was a word not found in the Park Chanyeol Dickhead Dictionary. Along with “heart,” “kindness,” “compassion,” “lunch break,” or “thank you.”


	3. Chapter 3

So there I was, running through the empty halls in my expensive suit and shoes which I regret to wear today .

Breathe, Baekhyun He can smell fear.

As I neared the conference room, I tried to calm my breathing and slowed to a walk. Soft light shone from beneath the closed door. He was definitely in there,Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

I walked into the warmly lit space. The conference room was huge; one wall was filled with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the Seoul city from eighteen stories up. In the center of the room stood a large heavy wood conference table, and facing me from the head of the table was Mr. Park.

He sat there, suit jacket hanging on the chair behind him, tie loosened, crisp white shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, and chin resting on his steepled fingers. He look so beautiful there sitting silently and for a minute I can't take eyes of him . His gaze was so intense that I can feel myself warm up , but he said nothing.

“I apologize, Mr. Park, ” I said, my voice wavering with my still labored breathing, “The print job took—” I stopped. Excuses wouldn’t help my situation. And besides, I wasn’t going to let him blame me for something I had no control over. He could kiss my ass. With my newfound bravery in place, I lifted my chin and walked over to where he sat.

Without meeting his gaze, I sorted through my papers and placed a copy of the presentation on the table before us. “Are you ready for me to begin?”

He didn’t respond aloud, his eyes piercing my face and lips . This would be a lot easier if he wasn’t so gorgeous. His eyes are so intense that he can fuck me over this table and i will not complain . (Ugh what was I'm thinking )Instead, he gestured toward the materials before him, urging me to continue.

I cleared my throat and began my presentation. As I moved through the different aspects of the proposal, he stayed silent, staring directly at his copy. Why was he so calm? His temper tantrums I could handle. But the eerie silence? It was unbearable for me now. This silence and my heart want to stare at his face like forever . Why he's so handsome and beautiful.

I was leaning over the table, gesturing toward a set of graphs, when it happened.

“Their timeline for the first milestone is a little ambi—” I stopped midsentence, my breath caught in my throat. His hand pressed gently into my lower back before sliding down, settling on the curve of my ass. In the nine months I had worked for him, he had never intentionally touched me.

This was most definitely intentional.

The heat from his hand burned through my pants and into my skin. Every muscle in my body tensed, and it felt like my insides was harden . What the hell was he doing? My brain screamed at me to push his hand off, to tell him to never touch me again, but my body had other ideas. My di*k hardens , and I clenched my jaw in response. What can I even do when my body is a biggest traitor for me . I groaned inside.

While my heart pounded in my chest, at least half a minute passed, and neither of us said anything as his hand moved down to my thigh, caressing. Our breathing was the only thing we can hear in the conference room which is not good . There was a pregnant silence and then he spoke 

“Turn around, Mr Byun" His quiet voice broke the silence and I straightened my back, eyes facing forward. Slowly I turned, his hand skimming across me and sliding to my hip. I could feel the way his hand spread from his fingertips on my lower back all the way to where his thumb pressed against the soft skin just in front of my hipbone. I looked down to meet his eyes, which looked intently back at me.

I could see his chest rising and falling, each breath deeper than the last. A muscle twitched in his sharp jaw as his thumb began to move, slowly sliding back and forth, his eyes never leaving mine. He was waiting for me to stop him; there had been plenty of time for me to shove him away, or simply turn and leave. But I had too many feelings to sort out before I could react. I had never felt this way, and I had never expected to feel this about him. I wanted to slap him, and then pull him up by his shirt and lick his neck.

“What are you thinking?” he whispered, eyes somehow both mocking and anxious.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

With those eyes still locked to mine, he began to slide his hand lower. His fingers ran up my thigh, and then to my pants opening . to the He moved and open it and then I can't feel anything . A long finger opened it one go and slipped it off in one go . I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling suddenly like I was melting from the outside in.

How could I let my body react like this? I still wanted to slap him, but now, more than that, I wanted him to keep going. The heavy ache between my legs was building. He reached the edge of my di*k and palm mt clothed member and I felt my self hardening up . I bit my lip trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle my groan. When I looked down at him, and he fucking smirked to me and then smirked turn me up like hell


	4. Chapter 4

"Fuck,” he growled quietly. “You look so hot like this ” His eyes fell closed and he seemed to be waging the same internal battle I was. I glanced down at his lap and could see the bulge he had in his pants and then what he did afterward shocked me . He took my boxers in his hand and pull it out in one move . He gaze was so intense I fell like the heat was going to explode everywhere in this room. 

He pulled my butt roughly, lifting me up onto the cold table and spreading my legs in front of him. I gave an involuntary groan as his fingers touched my member. His long finger roughly but it feel so gentle touching my member and I can't help and to moan. I despised this man in a singularly sharp way, but my body was betraying me; I craved more of what he was doing. Damn if he wasn’t good at this. His weren’t the gentle loving touches I was accustomed to. Here was a man used to getting what he wanted, and it turned out that right now, what he wanted was me. My head fell to the side as I leaned back on my elbows, when he take my Asshole in one sweet move and used his long and warm finger to enter it in my butthole.

To my absolute horror I actually whimpered, “Oh, please.”

He stopped moving, pulling his fingers back and holding them in a fist before him. I sat up, grabbing his silk tie and pulling his mouth roughly against mine. His lips felt as perfect as they looked, firm and smooth. I have kissed not so many people but even this rough kiss made to lost my mind . My lips was perfectly fit for his lips .

I bit his lower lip as my hands quickly went down to set his pants free and I started palming his clothed member “You better be ready to finish what you started.”

He made a low, angry noise deep. I was awestruck that how deep his voice is and that I moment that his voice is the thing which can make me come easily if I can't hold it. He take off my suit harshly which pissed me off because it was fucking expensive.

He started licking my neck which was the sensitive area of mine . I moaned enjoying it . His expression was dark , his eyes were still beautiful for me . Then he started giving small kisses to went downward and held my ni**les. He started stroking my member with another hand.  
His hands were big, and rough almost to the point of pain, but instead of wincing or backing off, I pushed into his palms wanting more, and harder.

He growled, fingers tightening. It occurred to me I might bruise, and for a sick moment I hoped I did. I wanted a way to remember this feeling, of being completely sure of what my body wanted, entirely unleashed.

He leaned close enough to bite my neck, whispering, “You f**king tease.”

Unable to get close enough, I quickened my pace on his zipper, shoving his pants and his boxers to the floor. I gave his c**k a hard squeeze, feeling him pulse against my palm.

The way he hissed my last name—“Byun"—should have sent a rush of chill through me, but I only felt one thing right now: pure, unadulterated lust. In another movement he took my ass on that cold table spread me ,took a hold of my ankles, grabbed his member and took a step forward , thusted deep isnide me. I can't describe in words . It feels like Im in heaven which was the first time I ever felt.

 

I couldn’t even be horrified by the loud moan I let out—he felt better than anything. Though it pained but pleasure overtake it 

“What’s that? Why are you so tight ? ” he hissed through clenched teeth, his hips slapping against my thighs, driving him deep inside. “Never been f**ked like this before, have you? You wouldn’t be such a tease if you were being properly f**ked.”

Who did he think he was? And why the hell did it turn me on so much that he was right? I had never had sex anywhere but on a bed, and it never felt like this.

“I’ve had better,” I taunted.

He laughed, a quiet mocking sound. “Look at me.”

“No.”

He pulled out just as I was about to come. At first I thought he was actually going to leave me this way, until he grabbed my arms and yanked me up off the table, lips and tongue pressing against mine.

“Look at me,” he said again. And, finally, with him no longer inside me, I could. He blinked once, slowly, long dark lashes brushing against his cheek, and then said, “Beg me to make you come.”

His tone was all wrong. It was almost a question, but his words were just like him—all bastard. I did want him to make me come. More than anything. But I’d be damned if I’d ever ask him for anything.

I dropped my voice and stared back at him. “You’re an ass**le, Mr. Park.”

His smile told me that whatever he’d needed from me, he got. I wanted to slam my knees up into his balls, but then I wouldn’t get more of what I really wanted.

“Say please, Mr Park”

“Please, go f**k yourself.”

The next thing was beyond my imagination . He shoved me against the wall and started kissing me intensely and I groaned at the intense contrast in temperature between it and his skin. I was on fire; every part of me wanted to feel his rough touch.


	5. Chapter 5

At least you’re consistent,” he snarled into my ear before biting my neck. He kicked at my feet. “Spread your legs.”

I parted my legs and without hesitation he pulled my hips back and reached between us and he put one finger in my butthole and then afterwards two figure. . I can feel only pleasure a part of me wants to get up and move out of the place but another part which is fucking horny this time is over placing the another... He preped me and then he enters.. his length is fucking big but it feels so good

“You like the cold?”

“Yes.”

You like being watched, don’t you?” he murmured, taking my earlobe between his teeth. “You love that all of Seoul can look up here and see you getting fucked, and you loving every minute of it. "

“Stop talking, you’re ruining it.” Though he wasn’t. Not even close. His deep voice was doing wicked things to me.

But he just laughed in my ear and probably noticed the way I shivered at the sound. “You want them to see you come?”

I groaned in response, unable to form words with each repeated thrust into me, pressing me further against the glass.

“Say it. You want to come, Mr Byun ? Answer me or I’ll stop and make you suck me off instead,” he hissed, driving himself deeper and deeper inside me with every thrust.

The part of me that hated him was dissolving like sugar on my tongue, and the part that wanted everything he had to give me was growing, hot and demanding.

“Just tell me.” He leaned forward, sucked my earlobe between his lips and then gave it a sharp bite. “I promise I’ll give it to you.”

“Please,” I said, closing my eyes to shut out everything else and just feel him. “Please. Yes.”

He reached around, moving his fingers and grab my member and started stoking it gently but in a roughly manner. I could feel his smile press into the back of my neck, and when he opened his mouth and pressed his teeth to my skin, I was done for. Warmth spread down my spine, around my hips, and between my legs, inti his hands.. that was the best fuck of my life with the person i hated the most .... that fuck left gasing for air for a minute that was so good. He pulled out , ducking his head to suck my neck, my jaw, my lower lip.

 

“Say thank you,” he whispered.

I dug my hands into his hair and tugged hard, hoping I could get some reaction out of him, wanting to see if he was in control or delusional. What are we doing?

He groaned, leaning into my hands and kissing up and down my neck, pressing his erection into my stomach. “Now make me feel good.”

I released one hand and brought it down to his member and began stroking him. He was heavy, and long, and perfect in my palm. I wanted to tell him, but I’d be damned if I ever let him know how amazing he felt. Instead, I pulled away from his lips, staring at him with puppy eyes.

“I’m going to make you come so hard you forget that you’re supposed to be the world’s biggest asshole,” I growled, sliding down the glass before slowly taking his entire member in my mouth and back against my throat. He tensed and let out a deep moan. I looked up at him, his palms and forehead resting on the glass, his eyes closed tight. He looked vulnerable, and he looked gorgeous in his abandon.

But he wasn’t vulnerable. He was the biggest jerk on the planet and I was on my knees in front of him. No fucking way.

So instead of giving him what I knew he wanted, I stood up, pulled my pant up , and met his big deep eyes. It was easier now, without him touching me and making me feel things he had no business doing.

The seconds ticked by, neither of us looking away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he rasped. “Get on your knees and open your mouth.”

“Not a chance.”

I pull my suit up and walked out, praying my shaky legs wouldn’t betray me.

Grabbing my essentials from the desk, I threw my blazer on, trying desperately to fasten the button with my trembling fingers. Mr. Park still hadn’t come out, and I ran to the elevator praying to God it would get there before I had to face him again.

I couldn’t even let myself think about what happened until I was out of there. I’d let him fuck me, give me the most amazing fuck of my life, and then I’d left him with his pants around his ankles in the company conference room. 

Shit.

The doors opened and I entered, quickly pushing the button and watching as each floor counted down. As soon as the elevator reached the lobby I raced out and down the hall. I just waved to the security guard and left .......


	6. Chapter 6

With each step the ache between my legs reminded me of the events of the last hour. As I reached my car I unlocked it with the remote, pulled open the door, and collapsed into the safety of the leather seats. I looked up at myself in the rearview mirror.

What in the fuck was that?

Two

Christ. I am so fucking screwed.

I’d been staring at my ceiling since I woke up thirty minutes ago. Brain: a mess. Dick: hard.

Well, hard again.

I scowled at the ceiling. It didn’t matter how many times I’d jerked off after he left me last night, it never seemed to go away. And though I didn’t think it was possible, it was worse than the hundreds of other times I’d woken up this way. Because this time, I knew what I was missing. And he hadn’t even let me come.

Nine months. Nine fucking months of morning wood, jacking off, and endless fantasies about someone I didn’t even want. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I wanted him.I wanted him more than any men or woman I’d ever seen. The big problem was I also hated him.

And he hated me too. I mean, he really hated me. In all my thirty-one years, I had never met someone who pushed my buttons like Mr Byun.

Just his name made my dick twitch. Fucking traitor. I stared down at where I tented my sheets. This stupid appendage got me into this mess to begin with. I rubbed my hands across my face and sat up.

Why couldn’t I just keep it in my pants? I’d managed for almost a year. And it had worked. I kept my distance, bossed him around, hell, even I’ll admit I’d been a bastard. And then I just lost it. All it took was one moment, sitting in that quiet room, his smell all around me and that fucking ass in my face. I snapped.

I was sure that if I just had him once, it would be disappointing and the wanting would be over. I’d finally have some peace. But here I was, in my bed, hard, as if I hadn’t come in weeks. I looked at the clock, and it had only been four hours.

I took a quick shower, scrubbing myself roughly as if to remove any trace of her left from last night. This was going to stop, this had to stop. Park Chanyeol didn’t act like some horny teenager, and I certainly did not fuck around in my office. The last thing I needed was a clingy men like Mr Byun ruining everything. I couldn’t allow Mr Byun to have this control over me.

Everything was so much better before I knew what I was missing. For as awful as that was, this was million times worse.

I was making my way into my office when he walked in. The way he left last night, practically sprinting out the door, I figured one of two scenarios awaited me. Either he would be making eyes at me, thinking that last night meant something, that we meant something. Or he’d have my ass.

If word got out about what we’d done, not only could I lose my job, but I could lose everything I’d worked for. And yet, as much as I hated him, I couldn’t see him doing something like that. If there was one thing I’d learned about him, it was that he was trustworthy and loyal. he might be a hateful shrew, but I didn’t think he would throw me to the lions. he had worked for Park Media Group since college and was a valued part of the company for a reason. Now he was only months from obtaining his MBA and would have his pick of jobs when he was ready. No way would he jeopardize that.

But I’ll be damned if he didn’t completely ignore me. he walked in wearing a blue fluffy sweater and bunny designed over it and tight jeans .

Oh shit . . . These jeans shows his ass so perfect . Oh fuck no .... Not today...... why he always look so sexy and perfect even my dick agrees with that fact. I knew for a fact there was no way I had the willpower for that shit today.

I glared at him as he hung her coat in his closet and sat down at his desk.

Well, fuck me running, that man really was the biggest tease in the entire world.

 

He look so sexy while sitting there and having a pen in his mouth and I fucking fantasies that pen as my dick . Holy fuck what is happening to me.. I really wanted to put that pen down and take him all on that desk and fuck him till sun down .

God, he pissed me off.

When he still didn’t acknowledge me, I turned and stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me. Why was he still affecting me this way? I’d never had anyone or anything distract me from work, and I hated him for being the first.


	7. Chapter 7

But part of me relished the memory of his victorious expression as he turned and left me gasping and practically begging him to suck me off. The boy had a spine made of steel.

I bit back a grin and focused instead on hating him.

Work. I would just focus on work and stop thinking about him. I walked over to my desk and sat down, trying to direct my attention to anything but thoughts of how amazing those lips felt around me last night.

Not conducive, Park.

I flipped open my laptop to check my schedule for the day. My schedule . . . shit. That boy had the most up-to-date version in his computer. Hopefully I wasn’t missing any meetings this morning, because I was not calling that ice king in here until I absolutely had to.

As I was going over a spreadsheet, a knock came at my door. “Come in,” I called out. A white envelope was slammed down onto my desk. I looked up to see Mr Byun staring down at me with a defiantly crooked eyebrow. Without an explanation, he turned and walked out of my office.

I glared at the envelope, panicked. Likely it was a formal letter detailing my conduct and indicating his intent to file a harassment suit. I expected letterhead and his scribbled signature at the bottom of the page.

What I didn’t expect was a sales receipt from an online clothing store . . . charged to the company credit card. I shot up out of the chair and raced out of my office after him. he was headed for the stairwell. Good. We were on the eighteenth floor, and nobody, besides maybe the two of us, ever used the stairs. I could scream at him all I wanted and no one would be the wiser.

The door closed with a heavy clang and the voice of his shoes echoed their way down the stairs just in front of me.

“Mr Byun , where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

he continued walking without turning back to look at me. “We’re out of coffee,” he hissed. “So as your office boy, I’m going down to the café on fourteen to retrieve some. Can’t have you missing out on your caffeine fix.”

How could someone so hot be such a bitch? I caught up to him on the landing between floors and grabbed his arm, pushing him against the wall. His eyes narrowed contemptuously at me, his teeth clenched in a hiss. I whipped the receipt up in front of his face as I glared back at him. “What is this?”

 

he shook his head. “You know, for such a pompous know-it-all, you really are a stupid son of a bitch sometimes. What does it look like? It’s a receipt.”

“I can see that,” I growled through my teeth, crumpling the paper into my clenched fist. I pressed the sharp tip of it into the delicate skin just above his nipples and felt my cock twitch when he gasped and his eyes dilated. “Why are you making clothing purchases on your company credit card?”

“Some bastard tore my most ex pensive suit.” he shrugged his shoulders and then leaned his face closer to me and whispered, “And my boxers.”

Well, fuck

I took a deep breath through my nose and threw the paper to the floor, leaning forward and pressing my lips against hid and digging my fingers into his hair, pinning his body against the wall. My dick throbbed against his abdomen as I felt his hand mirror my own and grip my hair, fisting it roughly.

I pulled his pants down that showed me his milky thighs and groaned into his mouth as my hands went for his member . he did this to torment me, he had to. I felt his tongue run over my lips as my finfer started plaming his member. I clenched my hold around the boxers and gave it a rough tug.

“Make a note to order another pair then,” I hissed and then pressed my tongue between his lips and into his mouth.

He groaned deeply as I enter two fingers inside of him and it Seriously fucked-up situation we have going on here. He broke away from my lips with a gasp as I fucked him hard with my two fingers. 

“Get your cock out,” he said. “I need to feel you in me. Now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to hide the effect him words had on me.

“Say please, Mr Byun.

“Now,” he said more urgently.

“Bossy much?”

He gave me a look that would shrivel the dick off a lesser man and I laughed in spite of myself. Byun could hold his own. “Good thing I’m feeling generous.”

I made quick work of my belt and pants before lifting him up and i havery preped him enough with my two beautiful fingers and it entered in hinlm . Christ, he felt amazing. Better than anything. It helped explain why I couldn’t get him out of my head, and a small voice told me I might never get enough of this.

Damn,” I mumbled.

He gasped and I felt him clench around me, him breath ragged. He bit into the shoulder of my jacket and wrapped his leg around me as I began moving into him hard and fast against the wall. Any moment someone could enter the stairwell and catch me fucking him, and I couldn’t care less. I needed to get him out of my system.

He lifted his head from my shoulder and bit his way up my neck before taking my bottom lip between his teeth.

“Close,” he growled and tightened his leg around me to pull me deeper. “I’m close.”

Perfect.

I buried my face in his neck and hair to muffle the groan as I came hard and suddenly inside hI'm, squeezing his ass in my hands. Pulling out before he could rub him against me anymore, I put him down on unsteady legs.

Hee gaped at me, his look thunderous. The stairwell filled with a leaden silence.

“Really?” he said, exhaling loudly. His head fell back against the wall with a dull thud.

“Thanks, that was fantastic.” I found my pants down around my knees.

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’ve mentioned this,” I murmured, looking down as I pulled up my zipper.

When I looked back up, he had pulled his pant up but he still looked handsomely disheveled, and part of me ached to reach forward and slide my hand against him, to make him come. But a larger part of me relished the angry dissatisfaction in his eyes. “What goes around comes around, so to speak.”

“It’s too bad you’re such a horrible lay,” he replied calmly. He turned to continue down the stairs but stopped abruptly, spinning back to meet my eye.

 

I watched him disappear out of sight down the stairs and growled as I walked back to my office. I landed in my chair with a loud huff, raking my hands through my hair before removing his destroyed boxers from my pocket. I stared at the fabric between my fingers for a moment, then opened my desk drawer and dropped them in to join the pair from last night.

How the hell I made it down those stairs without killing myself is beyond me. I ran out of there like I was on fire, leaving Mr. Park alone in the stairwell slack jawed, clothes askew, and hair standing on end like he’d been molested.

Blowing past the café on fourteen, and clearing the final floor landing in a leap—no easy task in these tight  
Pants and even without boxers and when you are hard as fuck —I pushed open the metal door and leaned against the wall, panting.

What just happened? Did I just fuck my boss on the stairs? I gasped and my hands flew over my mouth. Did I order him to? Oh, Jesus. What the hell was wrong with me? And uhh and I had to handle this fucking hard member of mine to take care

Dazed, I stumbled away from the wall and up a few flights into the closest restroom. I did quick things to make my hard member come to normal and I exited . I started limping . Oh that's fucking hurt. If anyone see that I will be dammed.

My hair was a nightmare.Apparently Mr.Park liked my hair and its scent . I’d have to remember that.

Wait. What? Where the hell did that come from? I most certainly would not remember that. I slammed my fist on the counter and moved closer to inspect the damage.

My lips were swollen, ; my suit had wrinkled , and I was once again missing my boxers.

Son. Of. A. Bitch. That was my favourate . What was he doing with them, anyway?

“Oh, God!” I said, panicked. They weren’t lying in a pile in the conference room somewhere, were they? Maybe he picked them up and tossed them aside? I should ask him to be sure. But no. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of even acknowledging this . . . this . . . what was this?

I shook my head, scrubbing my face with my hands. God, I’d made a mess of things. When I came in this morning, I’d had a plan. I was going to walk in there, throw that receipt in his pretty little face, and tell him to shove it. But then he’d looked so goddamn sexy in that charcoal Prada suit, his handsome face , his fucking big and deep and his hair stuck up like a neon sign screaming, Do Me, and I just lost all coherent thought. Pathetic. What was it about him that made my brain turn to mush and my cock harden?

This was not good. How was I going to face him without imagining him naked? Okay, well, not naked. I technically hadn’t seen him completely undressed yet, but what I had seen caused a shiver to run through me.

Oh no. Did I just say “yet”?

I could quit. I thought about that for a minute but didn’t like the way it felt. I loved my job, and Mr. Park might be the world’s most epic douchebag, but I’d dealt with that for nine months and—the last twenty-four hours aside—I had him figured out and could handle him like no other. And as much as I hated to admit it, I loved watching him work. He was an asshole because he was both supremely impatient and an obsessive perfectionist; he held everyone to the same standards he set for himself and didn’t put up with anything but the best effort. I had to admit I’d always appreciated the expectation that I would perform better, work harder, and do whatever it took to get the job done—even if I didn’t always love his methods. He really was a genius in the marketing world; his whole family was.


	8. Chapter 8

And that was the other thing. His family. My dad was back home in Busan, and when I started as a receptionist while still in college, Mr. Ryan had been so good to me. They all had. Bennett’s brother, Jongin, was another senior executive and the nicest guy I’d ever met. I loved everyone here, so quitting was simply not an option.

The biggest issue was my scholarship. I needed to prove my dad that I'm not useless and thats why I stayed on at PMG: Park Chanyeol offered me the Papadakis account—the marketing plan for the multibillionaire land developer—which was a bigger project than anything my peers were working on. Four months wasn’t enough to start somewhere new and have anything good to show for it . . . was it?

No. Definitely couldn’t leave Park Media.

With that decided, I knew I needed a plan of action. I had to remain professional and make sure Mr. Park and I never, ever happened again, even if this was by far the hottest, most intense sex I’d ever had in my life . . . even when he was withholding the best fuck of my life. 

Ass.

I was a strong, independent . I had a career to build and had worked ridiculous hours to get where I was. My mind and body were not ruled by lust. I just had to remember what a jerk he was. He was a arrogant, pigheaded asshat who assumed everyone around him was an idiot.

I smiled at myself in the mirror and reeled through a collection of my recent Park Chanyeol memories.

“I appreciate that you got me coffee when you made your own, Mr Byun, but if I’d wanted mud to drink I would have scooped my mug through the garden soil this morning.”

“If you insist on pounding your keyboard as if you’re hammering gophers back home, Mr Byun, I’d appreciate it if you kept the door joining our offices closed.”

“Is there a good reason it’s taking you forever to take the contract drafts to legal? Does daydreaming about farm boys take up all your time?”

Hell, actually, this would be easier than I thought.

Feeling a new sense of determination, I quickly retrieved the coffee I was after and headed back to my office, making sure to avoid the stairs.

I opened the outer office door and stepped in. The door to Mr. Park's office was shut, and there was no noise coming from inside. Maybe he stepped out. Like I could get so lucky. The last thing I wanted to do was face him, but if I didn’t plan on quitting, it would have to be done eventually.

When I looked through the calendar, I remembered Mr. Park had a presentation before the other executives on Monday. I grimaced when I realized this meant I would have to talk to him today to prepare materials. He also had a convention in USA next month, which meant I would have to be not only in the same hotel as him, but in the plane, the company car, and any meetings that came up as well. No, no awkwardness there at all.

For the next hour, I found myself glancing up at his door. And each time I did, my stomach began to flutter. This was ridiculous! What was wrong with me? I shut the file I was unsuccessfully reading and dropped my head into my hands just as I heard his door open.

Mr. Park walked out, not meeting my eyes. He’d straightened his clothes, slung his overcoat over his arm, and had a briefcase in hand, but his hair was still a crazy mess.

“I’m leaving for the rest of the day,” he said, eerily calm. “Cancel my appointments and make any necessary adjustments.”

“Mr. Park,” I said, bringing him to a stop, his hand resting on the door. “Please don’t forget you have a presentation to the executive committee on Monday at ten.” I spoke to his back. He stood still as a statue, his muscles tensed. “If you like, I can have the spreadsheets, portfolios, and slide materials set up in the conference room by nine thirty.”

Okay, I was actually kind of enjoying this. There was nothing about his posture that communicated comfortable. He nodded curtly and started to make his way out the door when I stopped him again.

“And, Mr. Park?” I added sweetly. “I need your signature on these expense reports before you leave.”

His shoulders dropped and he exhaled harshly. Spinning on his heels, he never met my eyes as he leaned over and flipped through the forms to the Sign Here tabs.

I placed a pen on the desk. “Please sign where the tabs are, sir.”

He hated being told to do what he was already doing, and I stifled a laugh. Snatching the pen from me, he slowly raised his chin, bringing his hazel eyes in line with my own. Our eyes locked for what seemed like minutes, neither of us looking away. For a brief moment I had an irresistible urge to lean in and suck on his pouty bottom lip and beg him to touch me.

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy it .......  
> And tell me if you like it in the comment


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